


Tasting the Stars

by l10nelmessi



Category: Football RPF
Genre: FC Barcelona, Football | Soccer, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-02
Updated: 2017-01-02
Packaged: 2018-09-14 07:35:40
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9168700
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/l10nelmessi/pseuds/l10nelmessi
Summary: It's New Year's Eve, and Gerard is drunk. As usual.





	

**Author's Note:**

> whew i haven't written in a while!! this idea kinda just popped into my head so i decided to write it for yall as a new year's thing! hope you enjoy it & happy 2017!

It’s New Year’s Eve, and Gerard is drunk. As usual.

Marc watches him, amused. The board has rented out a conference room for the players and staff so that they could all get together for a party. It’s a nice room, very spacious, with a beautiful view of Camp Nou. There are kids running around and laughing, and everyone’s feeling the festive anxiety that comes with facing a new year. Gerard stands out from the crowd, though. To Marc, he seems to be glowing, and he knows that Gerard lives off of social events like this.

He feels strangely removed from the party surrounding him. Yes, he’s enjoying himself, but his mind is elsewhere (although he’s not sure where). He’s sitting with Andrés, who is always so kind and calm. He watches Andrés’ daughter run around after a football with the other children and has to hide a laugh behind his hand as she kicks it hard enough to knock down a stack of cups on a nearby table. Andrés scolds her lightly, and his wife goes over to do damage control.

“She gets the football skills from her mother, I’m guessing?” He jokes over at Andrés, who nods seriously.

“Definitely not from me,” he replies, winking. Marc grins. He turns back to watch just as Gerard swoops up Messi’s oldest son, who laughs loudly, thrilled to be so high up in the air. Just looking at Gerard—his smile, his laugh, his eyes…there is something about him, and maybe it’s the champagne, but he looks so good tonight, so beautiful, and Marc knows where this feeling is headed so he tries to keep it under control.

He quickly averts his gaze, but out of the corner of his eye he sees Gerard making his way over. He looks up and sure enough, there he is, and he’s sitting on the couch next to Marc and smiling.

“Why’d you leave Thiago?” Marc asks, smiling and waving over at Messi’s kid, who smiles shyly back and runs away.

“He got bored of me,” Gerard says. “You can only throw them up in the air so many times before their father tells you to watch out or they’ll throw up on you. I say it’s because Leo’s so short, the poor kid isn’t used to heights.”

Marc laughs out loud at this. “Don’t be mean,” he says. “He's grown at least half an inch since I came here. He’s just a late bloomer.”

"Are you talking about Leo or Thiago?"

“Hey!” Messi calls over. “I can hear you!”

Gerard laughs and waves him off. Marc watches the smile lines deepen around his blue eyes as he grins. He wants to put his hand out and touch them, maybe lean over and—

Okay, he’s definitely tipsy.

“Geri, could you come outside with me for a minute?” he asks. Gerard looks curious but follows. They leave the conference room and Marc leads them to an empty hallway.

“What’s up?” he asks when they reach the hallway, but Marc just kisses him, briefly.

“Nothing,” he says. “I just missed you.” He stares at Gerard for a long time. It’s difficult, being in a relationship like this. They hide it from everyone, even their teammates. Fear is a part of it, but not shame. Mainly it’s just because they like it like this, just the two of them. Like a secret, like having something precious and bright to hold onto whenever things get tough. On the pitch, Marc is glad to have Gerard just a few feet away, keeper and defender working together to live the dream they both had for so long. He traces the pin in the shape of a Barcelona crest on the lapel of Gerard’s suit jacket.

“Marc?” He’s so deep in thought that he jumps at the sound of Gerard’s voice calling his name. Gerard just laughs and says, “you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m…fine, why?”

“You seem out of it. How much did you drink? Lucho’s not gonna like that…” he teases, although it’s pretty clear that he’s been drinking, too. Hell, even Lucho was acting suspiciously friendly back at the party.

“I think _el míster_ is gonna have too much of a hangover tomorrow to worry about me,” Marc points out. Gerard laughs again and Marc decides he likes that look on him. He feels a slow burning deep inside him and he tries to push it away.

Gerard moves a bit closer. The feeling is harder to ignore now. Marc’s back is to the wall and he knows what Gerard is thinking about. He smiles and says, quietly, “this is a fun party, isn’t it?”

Gerard plays along. “Mm-hm. Really fun,” he adds, and when Marc nods in agreement, he leans in closer, so close that it makes Marc tense up, and Gerard’s hand is on his chest now, and he says into his ear, “I can think of something more fun that we could be doing.”

“You sound like such a tool,” is Marc’s immediate response. He bursts out laughing and it breaks the tension between them, and Gerard laughs, too, and soon they’re both almost in tears and out of breath, just the two of them doubled over in the hallway. Marc grips his hand and they just laugh for ages, and when they calm down, Marc says, “were you being serious?”

“Well, yeah,” Gerard mutters, dropping his voice a little. “I mean, I’m here, you’re here…”

“So we should just fuck, right? ‘Cause that’s the normal, rational thing to do,” Marc jokes quietly, still laughing, not knowing if the other man is kidding or not.

“Yes, of course,” Gerard says, grinning at him. “I mean it, Marc, I...want you. If you don’t want to, I completely understand, but…I just thought, it’s New Year’s, y’know?”

“It’s New Year’s,” Marc agrees, amused. “So…let’s celebrate.”

Gerard looks up at him, vibrant blue eyes and a white flash of teeth as he grins. “For real?”

“Yes, but…where?”

“I think I know a place,” Gerard says, and Marc knows exactly where he means just by the glint in his eyes. The nerves build in his chest just thinking about it.

“Piqué, I’m not doing this in the dressing room,” he says warningly. Gerard looks like he’s about to burst out laughing again.

“C’mon, what are you so scared about?” He mumbles, pressing Marc into the wall slightly. “I’ve wanted to for ages.”

“Of course you have,” Marc says under his breath. He rolls his eyes but he can’t help but smile at Gerard.

“Please…I’ll do anything you want once we’re in there…” Gerard begs. He hooks his finger into the belt loop of Marc’s pants and tugs slightly, pulling him just a little bit closer. Marc can feel himself reacting, and if he’s completely honest with himself, he’d already given in once he looked into Gerard’s clear blue eyes.

He tries one last time to regain control. He looks up and down the hallway, just to make sure they’re alone, and whispers, “I just don’t want to get caught in there.”

Gerard frowns. “We won’t, I promise. Everyone’s in here, it’s on a completely different floor. No one will miss us, they’re all too busy in there.” Marc considers this, and he knows Gerard is right but he also knows he’s smart to be worried.

And then Gerard leans forward, and he whispers “please” into his ear, and once he feels Gerard’s lips on his neck he wonders how he had even held out for this long.

*****

Marc locks the door of the room behind him as they enter. He turns to face Gerard, who is smirking at him as if he’d just won a hard-fought match. Marc rolls his eyes and pulls him close so he can finally kiss him again, deep and soft just like he knows Gerard likes it. He feels Gerard’s soft moan into his mouth more than he hears it, and he feels hands running up his back, across his chest.

“You look so good in this,” Gerard breathes. Marc smiles at him. He isn’t wearing anything special, just a white button-up and black dress pants, no tie. He had left his suit jacket in the room upstairs.

“Thank you,” he says. Gerard just kisses him. Through the haze in his mind of wanting and needing and aching, a thought comes. “Where are we going to do this?”

“Wherever you want, gorgeous.”

“I’m being serious, Geri.”

“Well, right here looks pretty good.”

“Right in front of the door?” Marc asks incredulously.

“I was thinking right up against it,” Gerard says, thoughtfully. Marc shakes his head in disbelief, but the heat is back in his belly and he shocks himself by realising that he wants it. “You need to take more risks,” Gerard says, pushing him up against the door and kissing his neck. Marc moans quietly and pulls him close. “You’re so uptight, ter Stegen. Relax.” He secretly loves when Gerard calls him by his last name because it sounds so sexy with the soft _s_ of his Catalan accent. It rolls off his tongue so beautifully.

He reaches down between Gerard’s legs and is surprised at how hard he is—had anyone seen? No, impossible, they’d been alone—and he presses his palm against him. Gerard grinds into his hand, moaning, and unbuttons the top button on Marc’s shirt to get better access to his collarbone. Marc removes his hand and pulls him close by his hips, presses their bodies together so that Gerard can feel how hard he is. Gerard moans again, looks into Marc’s eyes, their foreheads pressed together.

“Tell me you want it,” Marc whispers. Gerard kisses him on the lips instead, pulling his lower lip into his mouth. Marc pulls away after a short while, though. “Geri,” he repeats, “tell me. Please.”

“I want it.” Barely a whisper, but they’re close enough that Marc hears him clearly.

“Tell me what you want,” Marc says, matching his tone. He feels Gerard’s hands on him, unbuckling his belt slowly. He’s so hard he almost can’t believe it.

“You,” he says simply, and Marc closes his eyes and moans. “I want you,” he continues. “Touch me. Please, I—I feel like I’m going crazy,” he whispers urgently. Marc kisses him so deeply he forgets everything for a minute.

“I’ll take care of you,” Marc says quietly. “Promise.”

There’s something unspoken between them, and neither of them knows how to put it into words, and anyway, they’re too busy; they strip quickly and they both stand, admiring each other, for a moment.

Then Marc grabs Gerard by the wrist and pulls him so that it’s Gerard’s back against the door. Gerard grins when Marc drops to his knees in front of him. He really is beautiful, all tanned skin and that sandy brown hair, and even though he isn’t that dark, his skin still makes a lovely contrast with Marc’s own. Gerard tangles his hand lazily in Marc’s blond hair. “You look so pretty like this,” he says. Marc smirks.

“Don’t I look pretty all the time?”

“Yes, you do.” Marc kisses the tip of his cock, wet against his lips, and Gerard moans and repeats, “yes, you do. Always.”

“Talk to me,” Marc says. He takes the tip of Gerard’s cock into his mouth, sucking gently. “I love your voice. Tell me what you’re thinking of.”

“You know you’re all I think about,” Gerard whispers, and he gasps a little as Marc starts to blow him. His voice echoes in the empty dressing room. His eyes wander from Marc, on his knees in front of him, to his locker, a few feet away. “When I see you get changed here,” he says, his breathing coming in shallow gasps, “God, Marc, all I want to do is push you against your locker and fuck you.” Marc moans at this, taking Gerard a little deeper in his mouth, reaching between his legs to touch himself.

“I see the other guys looking at you sometimes,” Gerard whispers. Marc feels Gerard’s hand tighten in his hair, possessive, pulling a little harder than before. He would have laughed, but his mouth is a little busy. Gerard continues, “I see them looking and I want to tell them, _he’s mine_. Now look at you,” he says. Marc looks up to meet Gerard’s eyes, like blue crystal, so beautiful and full of everything. Marc takes him almost all the way in his mouth now, and his eyes are tearing up a little but he doesn’t care, and Gerard makes such a sweet noise at the back of his throat.

“I wish they could see you like this,” he breathes. Marc is so close, just from hearing Gerard’s voice. He knows that Gerard is close too, and there’s alcohol coursing through his veins and everything is burning hot and the tiled floor is cold against his knees and he’s pressing up against Gerard, wants more of him in his mouth, wants all of him. Gerard moans loudly and empties into his mouth, and Marc takes everything, everything, and he still wants more.

He leans up and Gerard leans down and it’s awkward but they kiss, Gerard’s tongue in Marc’s mouth, Marc’s hand on his cheek, feeling the sharp stubble there. Gerard helps him up and they go to sit on one of the benches (Messi’s, incidentally—Marc will never be able to look him in the eye again). Gerard’s breathing is still ragged. Marc kisses him some more. With his eyes closed, he feels Gerard’s hand around him and he moans.

“You didn’t?” Gerard asks with wide eyes. Marc shakes his head.

“Almost, though,” he says between kisses. “Because of what you were saying.”

“It was true, I swear. All of it.” It makes Marc smile, how sincere he is.

“I know, Geri.”

“Fuck me.”

“On Messi’s bench?” Marc asks, flushing bright red. Geri just laughs.

“You know I have a thing for blonds.”

Marc frowns. “He’s a fake blond,” he mutters, and this just makes Gerard laugh harder.

“Are you getting jealous?”

“Of course not,” Marc says automatically. Gerard has a playful smile on and he gets closer to Marc, kisses him softly. When they pull away, Marc leans back against the locker and raises an eyebrow at him. “You do tend to get touchy with him, though.”

“With Leo?”

“Yes. With—with Leo.” He doesn’t usually think of Messi as _Leo_ , and it sounds strange coming out of his mouth. Gerard furrows his brow but smiles at Marc.

“Don’t be stupid,” he says. “I don’t touch him like I touch you.” He reaches over and wraps his hand around Marc again. It’s kind of embarrassing, just because of that simple touch, how much precum drips from his cock. Gerard dips his head and licks it off, making Marc moan. He grips Gerard’s hair tight and leans back against Messi’s locker.

Despite how badly he wants this—needs it, really—he is beginning to get nervous again. He doesn’t break rules, he doesn’t do things like this usually. He isn’t carefree like Gerard. His stomach tightens at the thought of someone looking for them, wondering where they’d gone off to.

“We’ve been down here a long time, Geri…maybe we should go back…carry this on when we get home…”

“We will carry this on, trust me,” Gerard says, but when he looks up he sees the concern on Marc’s face and, ever the protector, comes to his rescue. “Marc, don’t worry. It’s gonna be okay.” He takes Marc’s hand, and with the other he lifts Marc’s chin slightly so their eyes meet. “If you want to go back, let’s go. I just don’t want you to be scared when you’re with me.”

“I’m not,” Marc lies. Gerard raises his eyebrows skeptically and Marc sighs. “Okay, maybe I am. I’m nervous. I just don’t want this to be ruined.”

“I know. Trust me, I worry too. Do you want to go back?”

Marc wants with everything in him to be able to say yes. Half of him just wants to go back and rejoin the party and steal glances at Gerard across the room and smile knowing that he wouldn’t be sleeping alone tonight. And although he’s sure that would be happening anyway, or maybe because of that fact, he says, “no.”

Gerard smiles, a silent _are you sure?_ passing between them. Marc nods. When they kiss, he feels fireworks inside him.

*****

They rush into the room, afterwards, just as everyone’s counting down the last seconds of the year. They count along with them, shouting the numbers out, and they turn to each other and hug tightly in the first second of the new year. Someone has a confetti gun—Marc doesn’t know who, but it’s probably Rafinha—and there’s confetti in his hair, in Gerard’s, all over the place. Marc smiles, and he thinks Gerard is about to kiss him, but the moment is broken by Thiago running over and hugging Gerard’s legs. He scoops him up in his arms.

“Where were you?” the boy whispers into Gerard’s ear. He looks so much like his father. Marc looks over at Messi and they make eye contact, briefly.

Messi winks at him, and continues his conversation with Luis and Neymar. Marc flushes deep red and looks away.

*****

“He knows, Geri, I’m telling you,” Marc mutters as Gerard presses him into the mattress at his house. They’re naked except for their boxers and Gerard is laying on top of him, kissing his neck. They’re both drunk and they know it, but Gerard sobers up a little bit at Marc’s serious tone.

“I know what you’re thinking, and I didn’t tell him anything,” he says, a little defensively. “Leo’s like that. He has this weird perception thing, like he knows everything about everyone without even trying. He just knows.”

“And that’s okay with you?”

“It’s not okay, but what do you want me to do? Wipe his memory? Stop seeing you?” He looks Marc dead in the eye, Marc’s dark green to Gerard’s clear blue. “Because both are impossible. And you know that.”

He hesitates before saying, “I know.”

“I don’t just want this for the sex,” Gerard says. He gets off of Marc to better prove his point; he ends up sitting next to him on the bed. Marc sits up so that they’re at eye level. “I like spending time with you. I like beating you in FIFA and then going easy on you so that I can see you smile when you win.”

“You don’t actually go easy on me, do you?”

“I was joking about that, don’t worry.”

Marc laughs. He reaches over to trace invisible patterns on Gerard’s thigh with the tip of his finger. “I feel the same way about you. It was never just about the sex.” He wants to say something, but he can’t get it out right; he shakes his head. “I’m too drunk right now to tell you what I mean.”

He looks up, meets Gerard’s eyes with his own. _You don’t have to tell me,_ they say. _I know._

“You’re my favourite blond,” Gerard mumbles, looking at Marc coyly. Marc puts his head back and laughs. He stretches his hand out to hold Gerard’s. He leans over to kiss him and as he does, as he feels Gerard’s smile against his lips, he thinks that maybe 2017 might turn out to be a good year after all.

**Author's Note:**

> wow this is longer than i thought it would be hahah sorry. if you guys would like a ~sequel to this i'd be down, i miss writing & i like these characters. suggestions would be great!! tell me what yall want. as always kudos + comments are so appreciated you guys have no idea, thank you so much for reading!


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